Ma,
I’m coming home
that mountain towering
over our city like a blue hue,
beckons
in the molasses folds of midnight
his voice
softens the folds of my ears
and the south-easter
sings in b-flat
as it winds through my empty heart

Ma,
I’m coming home
my heart overflows with yearning
and the tears roll down my cheeks
like rocks
and pull the breath from my lungs
i have walked through the skin
on the soles of my feet
winding through another country’s streets
another people’s pain
I miss
the sea
and the smell of salt
that finds its way to our front door
on summer morning’s
swollen with heat
I miss the voices and words
of my people
and the way their tongues
hold words in their mouths: flat and rough then sometimes flat
and smooth
the blood in my veins
beats to a rhythm
I cannot find in this green land

Ma,
I’m coming home
that mountain towering
over our city like a blue hue,
beckons
in the molasses folds of midnight
his voice
softens the folds of my ears
and the south-easter
sings in b-flat
as it winds through my empty heart

Ma,
I’m coming home
it’s time to leave the world behind
now it’s you who
I want to lay
beside

Ma,
I’m coming home
that mountain towering
over our city like a blue hue,
beckons
in the molasses folds of midnight
his voice
softens the folds of my ears
and the south-easter
sings in b-flat
as it winds through my empty heart

Ma,
I’m coming home
my heart overflows with yearning
and the tears roll down my cheeks
like rocks
and pull the breath from my lungs
i have walked through the skin
on the soles of my feet
winding through another country’s streets
another people’s pain
I miss
the sea
and the smell of salt
that finds its way to our front door
on summer morning’s
swollen with heat
I miss the voices and words
of my people
and the way their tongues
hold words in their mouths: flat and rough then sometimes flat
and smooth
the blood in my veins
beats to a rhythm
I cannot find in this green land

Ma,
I’m coming home
that mountain towering
over our city like a blue hue,
beckons
in the molasses folds of midnight
his voice
softens the folds of my ears
and the south-easter
sings in b-flat
as it winds through my empty heart

Ma,
I’m coming home
it’s time to leave the world behind
now it’s you who
I want to lay
beside

Biography

Toni Stuart is a poetry writer, performer and developer. Her poetry has been published in numerous anthologies including The Ground’s Ear (Quickfox Publishing, 2011) and Agenda Journal on Teenage Fertility and Desire (Unisa Press and Routledge, 2011).

As a performer she was part of And the Word Was Woman Ensemble, from 2004 – 2007, with Malika Ndlovu and the 2010 Ingrid Jonker Prize winner Tania van Schalkwyk among others. She has performed locally and internationally, at numerous events including Urban Voices International Poetry Festival in 2010, Bridgewater International Poetry Festival in 2013, and alongside UK poet Lemn Sissay in 2012. Her work uses poetry to interrogate a range of social issues such as the stories of place and displacement (The Calllings Performance as part of GIPCA’ Exuberance Project, Emancipation Day Commemoration at Reminiscence Theatre Festival), HIV/Aids (commission of Breath and Blood for University of Cape Town) and gender-based violence (Woman.Object.Corpse exhibition for Centre for African Studies, UCT).

She is the curator of Poetica, at Open Book Festival 2013 and runs The Silence That Words Come From – writing workshops that enable people to explore their own voice.

In 2013, she was named in the Mail and Guardian’s list of 200 Inspiring Young South Africans for her work in co-founding I Am Somebody! – an NGO that uses storytelling and youth development to build integrated communities.

Toni Stuart

Biography

Toni Stuart is a poetry writer, performer and developer. Her poetry has been published in numerous anthologies including The Ground’s Ear (Quickfox Publishing, 2011) and Agenda Journal on Teenage Fertility and Desire (Unisa Press and Routledge, 2011).

As a performer she was part of And the Word Was Woman Ensemble, from 2004 – 2007, with Malika Ndlovu and the 2010 Ingrid Jonker Prize winner Tania van Schalkwyk among others. She has performed locally and internationally, at numerous events including Urban Voices International Poetry Festival in 2010, Bridgewater International Poetry Festival in 2013, and alongside UK poet Lemn Sissay in 2012. Her work uses poetry to interrogate a range of social issues such as the stories of place and displacement (The Calllings Performance as part of GIPCA’ Exuberance Project, Emancipation Day Commemoration at Reminiscence Theatre Festival), HIV/Aids (commission of Breath and Blood for University of Cape Town) and gender-based violence (Woman.Object.Corpse exhibition for Centre for African Studies, UCT).

She is the curator of Poetica, at Open Book Festival 2013 and runs The Silence That Words Come From – writing workshops that enable people to explore their own voice.

In 2013, she was named in the Mail and Guardian’s list of 200 Inspiring Young South Africans for her work in co-founding I Am Somebody! – an NGO that uses storytelling and youth development to build integrated communities.

Ma,
I’m coming home
that mountain towering
over our city like a blue hue,
beckons
in the molasses folds of midnight
his voice
softens the folds of my ears
and the south-easter
sings in b-flat
as it winds through my empty heart

Ma,
I’m coming home
my heart overflows with yearning
and the tears roll down my cheeks
like rocks
and pull the breath from my lungs
i have walked through the skin
on the soles of my feet
winding through another country’s streets
another people’s pain
I miss
the sea
and the smell of salt
that finds its way to our front door
on summer morning’s
swollen with heat
I miss the voices and words
of my people
and the way their tongues
hold words in their mouths: flat and rough then sometimes flat
and smooth
the blood in my veins
beats to a rhythm
I cannot find in this green land

Ma,
I’m coming home
that mountain towering
over our city like a blue hue,
beckons
in the molasses folds of midnight
his voice
softens the folds of my ears
and the south-easter
sings in b-flat
as it winds through my empty heart

Ma,
I’m coming home
it’s time to leave the world behind
now it’s you who
I want to lay
beside

Ma,
I’m coming home
that mountain towering
over our city like a blue hue,
beckons
in the molasses folds of midnight
his voice
softens the folds of my ears
and the south-easter
sings in b-flat
as it winds through my empty heart

Ma,
I’m coming home
my heart overflows with yearning
and the tears roll down my cheeks
like rocks
and pull the breath from my lungs
i have walked through the skin
on the soles of my feet
winding through another country’s streets
another people’s pain
I miss
the sea
and the smell of salt
that finds its way to our front door
on summer morning’s
swollen with heat
I miss the voices and words
of my people
and the way their tongues
hold words in their mouths: flat and rough then sometimes flat
and smooth
the blood in my veins
beats to a rhythm
I cannot find in this green land

Ma,
I’m coming home
that mountain towering
over our city like a blue hue,
beckons
in the molasses folds of midnight
his voice
softens the folds of my ears
and the south-easter
sings in b-flat
as it winds through my empty heart

Ma,
I’m coming home
it’s time to leave the world behind
now it’s you who
I want to lay
beside